


give me one more chance, hell, maybe two

by RhysennM



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, Post-Break Up, Serious fluff, hydra? what hydra?, new start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-28 00:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2712920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhysennM/pseuds/RhysennM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Say it." Her hands push his shoulders away from her but he barely moves an inch. He grabs her arms and holds her firmly, “You’re mine.” <br/>She bites her lip and slides her hands to the sleeves of his jacket. “Not anymore.” He slowly takes it off and waits for her to rest her hands on the edges of his t-shirt. “I can’t play this game anymore, okay? I know I’m putting you in a tough position and you might not feel that way, but I can’t do this if you don’t. Because I do. I do feel that way but I can't wait you forever and I won't, so if you're too scared to admit and say it - leave now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	give me one more chance, hell, maybe two

The doorbell rang about three times by the time she answers it. The shiny object on her finger has distracted her for the last thirty minutes and someone ringing at her door snaps her back to reality. She brushes a hand over her hair and grasps the back of her neck as she softly pulls the door open.

"Hey."

Jemma frowns, smelling the scotch pouring from his breath.

“Hi.” left hand stays on her neck as her right leans against the wall, waiting for him to start talking.  
She wonders what he came over for when he doesn’t speak. He stares down at the wet ground for a few seconds before swallowing a breath and looking over at her.

"I uh- I-"

He doesn’t even know where to start, he doesn’t know what to say. He remembers Coulson telling him that when the moment came, he’d have to conquer his fears and just come out with it, no matter how scared he was. But he never imagined he’s be this terrified. 

He’s terrified because he doesn’t know what she’s going to say. He’s terrified because he thinks that if she rejects him he might actually break.

On her end, she waits patiently for him to speak. She has her own things to worry about, as selfish as it sounds, so she doesn’t want to hear about his ‘dark soul' problems. She really doesn't want to know anything about him being wrong guy for her, she doesn't want to hear about him being damaged, or him being happier on his own. Because 'on his own' was always 'without her'.

She opens the door wider and, after a small moment of hesitation, he steps inside. She closes the door behind him and walks to stand at his front, a few steps away from his body.

The silence becomes too much for her and she lets slip the one thing she didn’t want to say to him.

"Antoine asked me to marry him."

She regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth. She catches the slight pain on his face as he just stares at her, his black eyes boring into hers. Is it some kind of cruel joke? Why was she telling him this? To hurt him? To break him? To say 'I'm moving on'?

He blinks a few times again and she uncomfortably crosses her arms over her chest.

She shouldn’t have said anything, she knows it. But maybe her subconscious let the words slip because, deep down, she needs him to say something, wants him to tell her something. Maybe her subconscious won’t let her say yes to the other man’s proposal until she knows if she’s lost him forever.

Ward watches her body fidget, his eyes catching the ring on her left hand, “You said yes?”

He seems stunned and slightly angered, the small diamond holding his gaze. She clears her throat and shrugs, “I haven’t- He just- He gave me the ring until I decide if- I haven’t answered yet.”

He looks like he’s going to collapse to the ground and break into two pieces, and she wonders why until she recalls the time that he had proposed to her. They’d been so giddy and happy, and she thinks that’s why he looks so pained by her news.

But she doesn’t understand why.

The only things that rack through his mind are all the possible answers she could give him.

She’d have no reason to say no. She was practically in love with the guy and he was perfect for her , maybe even too much. That’s what all girls want, right? A beautiful proposal with delicious dinner and a ring? A sparkly and glittery diamond to show off to everyone? A diamond to remind him that his own proposal was such a mess. He got through tough mission, so was drunk as fuck, vomited, asked her to marry him, when she tried to clean him up. Yeah, how bloody romantic, he thinks. What a fool he was to think that she might actually choose him in the long run.

He can’t compete. There’s no way in hell. That Triplett guy has everything. He’s got the whole package. He’s all smart and shiny. He's kind and he's funny, he know how to smile and laugh. He doesn’t have any 'dark past' issues. His family isn't a bloody mess. No one criticizes him if he fucks up. Oh, who’s he kidding. That lad just never fucks up. He can’t compete.

And, maybe it’s all the alcohol getting to his system, but he feels like he stills wants to put up a fight.

He can’t compete, but he can still run.

"What are you going to say?"

She bites her lip and stares up at him. She feels her face burn under his gaze but she can’t find it in herself to turn away, to look away from him. And she’s always going to be drawn to him because he keeps pulling her back in.

"I-"

He steps closer to her, reaching out to grasp her waist and she takes a step behind, backing away from him. She can smell the alcohol on his breath and scratches her neck nervously. She knows what he’s like when he’s drunk. It’s extremely hot until he gets kind of angry when he doesn’t get his way.

"Stop moving away from me." He tells her.

Ward makes another move toward her and she finds her back collide with a wall as she steps back.

She glances down between them, noticing the small distance and lifts her hands to toy with the metal band of the ring. He watches her spin the object around her finger, her eyes captivated by its sparkle.

"Don’t say yes."

Jemma turns her attention up to him and raises an eyebrow, “Why not?” She asks him quietly, hoping for those three words. He’s never exactly been clear with her about his feelings but if he says it, if he tells her that he feels that way, that he wants her, then she’ll drop everything.

He moves closer to her, his hands resting on either side of her head against the wall.

“Because you’re mine.”

She gulps and bites her lip and he peers down at her, his eyes flickering between his eyes and her lips. He cups the side of her face with his hand and she tries to fight the smell of alcohol coming out of his lips.

“You’re drunk.”

He shakes his head like a child, “No, no I am- I’m not.” He nods to himself and rests his forehead against hers.

She takes the ring from her finger and grasps it in her hand. “You’re drunk.” She rests her hands against his chest and frowns.

He ignores her repeated comment and leans down, pressing his lips to her collarbone. She lets her head fall back against the wall and fidgets against him when he kisses up her neck to behind her ear. Her hands push against him, trying to fight him off. Instead of backing away, he rests his hands on her hips and holds her in place. “You’re mine.” He growls in her ear as he pushes her hair back and she shivers against him, her eyes closing.

He pushes himself against her and smirks when she moans out. “D’you do that for him?” He quips, sliding his hands down her body. She backs herself up properly and lets him do whatever he wants. She doesn’t want to be this person, a cheater. But when it feels so good - it doesn’t matter.

Her hands drop open and her boyfriend’s engagement ring tumbles to the floor, but she doesn’t pay much attention to it. Instead, she focuses on the hands that are slowly creeping down to her jeans and undoing the button. She watches his face when he slides the zipper down and speaks, “You belong to me.”

"Say it."

Her hands push his shoulders away from her but he barely moves an inch. He grabs her arms and holds her firmly, “You’re mine.”

 

She bites her lip and slides her hands to the sleeves of his jacket. “Not anymore.”

He slowly takes it off and waits for her to rest her hands on the edges of his t-shirt.

“I can’t play this game anymore, okay? I know I’m putting you in a tough position and you might not feel that way, but I can’t do this if you don’t. Because I do. I do feel that way but I can't wait you forever and I won't, so if you're too scared to admit and say it - leave now.”

He doesn’t tell her that he’s indeed scared as fuck. Hell, he’s fucking petrified, but he won’t tell her that. He’s got to do this, he promised Fitz that he’d have the balls to do it. And, sure, maybe the alcohol’s helping his courage, but it doesn’t change the way he feels.

Ward peeks down at her; her eyes are closed as though she’s going to cry and her chocolate hair’s tumbling over her face.

"I need you, Simmons. Maybe this is not the words you're expecting to hear but it means more than you can imagine. All my life, even since I was a kid, I was alone. All by myself, I've got used not to trust people and not to care, I was basically raised in the fucking woods by Garrett, no wonder I became a lone wolf and actually I was pretty good at being one. But now I hate to admit but I need you. I need you, Jemma, uncontrollably pathetically need you in every way possible. And if that's not enough for you - I promise I'll go out the door immediately."

Wards hated himself for closing his eyes cowardly while waiting for her response. His heart suddenly lights up as little warm hands cupped his face gently. He opens his eyes and Jemma stares right back at him. Ward brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and cradles her face between his hands. She bites her lip and allows her head to lean on the wall.

"I need you, too."

"Yeah?" He asks, a relieved and a bit teasing grin on his lips. 

She stands up straight against him, pulling up the edges of his top and he shrugs it off. He leans down to kiss her, a smile playing on his lips.

"Yes."

His fingers toy with her jeans again and she slips out of them, leaving them on the floor, followed by her blouse. He picks up the backs of her knees and she wraps her legs around his waist as he pushes into her body again.

“You’re mine, Simmons. Objections?” He groans.

She nods her head as she slowly kisses down his neck, “Hmmm, none." She stops spreading warm, soft kisses on his throat to look at his face and whisper "Yours.”


End file.
